A Halloween Ball at the Opera House
by potosw
Summary: A few years have passed since the events of the novel. The Opera House has reopened and a Halloween Balll is being held. Christine attends and ends up running into someone. Origianlly a one-shot, now a completed three chapter mini-story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- I had the inspiration for this after listening to Michael Crawford singing some Disney songs. I thought, why not do a Phantom Fiction? Well, this is the end result. I don't own anything.

It was just like any other day at the opera for one Christine Daae. The Opera House had reopened just a few short years after the disaster that was _Don Juan._ She had insisted upon returning to her position after the grand reopening. After much discussion with her husband, her position as prima donna had become hers once again after the Opera House had only been open one month. The daily activities of the Opera House had resumed. She was now looking forward to the annual Halloween Ball that was to be held. It had been quite some time since she had heard from the mystery that was the Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't like she was complaining, for she was able to spend time undisturbed with Raoul. At the same time, she did somewhat miss the man. He had such a wonderful voice. Then again, a voice couldn't make up for his actions.

Well, she had planned on spending a nice little evening with Raoul. That wasn't going to happen though, as an unseen visitor to the Ball planned on showing up. No one would question a masked man at a Halloween Ball. He, of course, couldn't very well show up as the Phantom or as Red Death, though he doubted that no one else would dress up like the infamous Opera Ghost. They all believed him to be dead. It was quite laughable, really.

The Ball had begun. Everyone who was anyone had shown up. Those from the old Opera House had come in addition to the new smiling faces. All were dressed to the heights of Parisian fashion with matching masques to match. Sure, this wasn't the more-popular Masquerade Ball, but that didn't prevent the people from dressing to the nines. They all filed in, flashing their tickets to the guard that had been posted at the entrance. The Managers insisted upon having increased security. Neither wanted to have a repeat of the last time they had held a Ball. Sadly, their security was wasted. The very man they hoped was long dead was already inside, completely unnoticed by those around him.

He was dressed just as any other man at this Ball. He wore a black tuxedo, complete with dark red cravat. The combed back wig was, of course, a given. He couldn't very well mingle about without looking half way decent. The only thing that set him apart was his mismatched eyes and his height. Other than that, the full black masque hid his identity. It really wasn't very difficult to trick the Opera workers. Had they truly thought a broken heart would kill him? Certainly not. But the past was something that he wanted to avoid tonight, though. It was time to see just what the new Opera Company had to offer.

Christine was less than happy. Raoul was sick and she was stuck here all on her own. She had to come due to her position. As she mingled with the various people, one man had seemed to have taken a liking to her. He was dressed as a gypsy and had painted tattoos all over his face. He continued to follow her around, asking for multiple dances. To say the least, the man was starting to become a little more than annoying. When the man had her backed against a wall with an odd look in his eyes, Christine began to fear for her own safety. No one noticed that she had disappeared into this dark alcove. This man would be able to do anything he wanted with her and no one but she would know of it. And that was exactly what the man had planned.

The one dressed as a gypsy wouldn't get his chance to take advantage of this woman. He was suddenly pulled away from her. Christine could make out the outline of another man who was sending the man on his way. She smiled as she approached the man, who was keeping his back to her.

"Monsieur?" she questioned, a hand reaching up to his shoulder to turn him to face her. Seeing those mismatched eyes once again filled her with a moment of fear, only for it to be replaced by happiness. Well, at least he wasn't dead. "You saved me?"

"You expect me to allow men to continue to try and harm women in my Opera House?" came the reply. He certainly hadn't expected to be saving Christine. He had merely seen an odd character pulling a woman along with him. Like he told her, he couldn't very well allow for the women of this Opera House to be harmed by men. The fact that he had saved Christine made little difference to him now. She was just the prima donna here. He was not about to allow himself to have any sort of attachment to the woman.

Christine smiled at him, taking his arm in a friendly matter. "Well, then I thank you for your services. It's good to know that you're still here."

"Is it?" he questioned, looking from her hand on his arm to her face. If this were another time, he would have reveled in her touching him. Now her touch only brought back memories of what a fool he was. Why would a woman such as she want to be near a man like him?

Her smile only brightened as she nodded, completely unaware of all of his thoughts. "I'm just happy to see a face that I recognize. Raoul is sick at home."

"My face? Yes, I suppose that it is something most difficult to forget," he answered. He led her back into the ballroom. Everyone was dancing, having the times of their lives. The odd pair ended up getting swept into the dance.

Christine was surprised at how well he could move her around the dance floor. Then again, he was a master at everything and dance was a simple extension of music. It was only logical that he would be talented at this. She tried to smile at him; she tried to be friendly with him by complimenting his dancing skills. He only gave a curt thank you before continuing on in their movements. It was only after the dance came to an end and she was led off the dance floor to a near-by table that she realized that the Phantom no longer cared for her. It was quite upsetting.

"You should be safe now, Christine," the Phantom told her, turning his back to her. He needed to close the door on his past and start things anew with the fresh company that the managers had hired. Dealing with Christine certainly wasn't allowing him to do so. She would be the prima donna, yes, but he wouldn't pay her any special attention during practice. She would know her part. It was time to move on. Without another word to the woman, he left. He seemed to melt into the shadows until he could no longer be made out amongst the crowd.

Christine stared openly at the blank spot that was once the Opera Ghost. He was gone from her life, even with him still living in the Opera House. He had decided to let her go those few years ago, but she had suspected that if they ever met again he would at the least be her friend. She knew differently now. He wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn't blame him after causing him such pain. Still, realizing that her Angel of Music had effectively "dropped her as a client" was hard. She would continue on in her work at the Opera House if only for the Phantom. She owed him that much.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Dedicated to Lovingcali15. I hadn't intended to continue on this story, but it was requested so I shall. Basic plot: It is a few weeks after the Halloween Ball. Practices for the new Opera are going well, but Christine manages to get herself in trouble again. Will Erik come to her rescue, and how does Raoul fit into all of this? Read and find out.

Practices for the new opera had just finished, and one prima donna found herself heading backstage, intending to get to her dressing room and relax. It had been a taxing day, what with the notes that were showing up. They held no danger in them; only helpful tips that could make the production run much smoother. The Managers were still on edge, even after taking the time to _try _to explore the underground catacombs. Unfortunately, all the passageways that could lead them to Erik's domain had been blocked off. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out who had done such a thing.

With her thoughts stuck on the Opera Ghost, Christine hadn't been watching where she was going. She successfully managed to walk into the waiting arms of one of the stagehands. She meant to apologize, only to find that this man was the same one from the Halloween Ball. She wanted to scream, to get some sort of attention so this man wouldn't harm her. Yet, she didn't get to make as much as a sound before the man was once again pulled away from her. And just like last time, her savior was none other than the Opera Ghost.

"You certainly do manage to get yourself into trouble quite often, Christine," Erik commented, while watching the man run off in fear. He would have to do something about that man; he was becoming a nuisance. The problem was disposing of the man without killing him. It was a promise he had made, to turn over a new leaf. That meant that he couldn't just kill people any longer. That certainly was an annoying fact.

Christine merely straightened out her dress. "Well, I suppose I do. Thank you for helping me." At the very least he's talking to me, she thought. Their last meeting hadn't exactly been friendly. Again, thinking back on their past, she really couldn't blame him if he was upset with her. He had opened himself entirely to her only for her to expose him to everyone. The past couldn't be taken back, so she chose not to think on it. Still, she wished that she could somehow have a friendship with this man. She smiled at him, trying to be friendly. "Are the practices living up to your expectations?"

"For a new cast, yes," he replied. Those mismatched eyes looked her over, seeming to be looking for something. His eyes came to rest on the wedding band. "And how is the boy?"

Both were surprised when Raoul came to them, saying very simply, "He had been ill as of late, Phantom." He looked from Christine and to the Phantom, who was dressed like he always was-dark suit and white, half-masque. The Viscount wasn't surprised to see the Opera Ghost, what with the notes that had been showing up. He wasn't even surprised to see that the man had found Christine. He was surprised; however, that Erik didn't seem to have any interest in the woman he had formerly loved. The Opera Ghost merely stepped aside for the Viscount to stand beside his wife.

"Quite unfortunate," Erik replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Why did his past insist upon rearing its ugly face so often? Did Fate enjoy toying with him? It appeared that so long as he stayed in this Opera House he would never be able to move on. He could only blame himself. He had been such a fool in his attempts to gain Christine's love. He turned away from the couple, not intending to spend a moment longer with them. Nearly taken by the shadows, he turned with only last statement, "You may wish to practice, Christine. You've been flat."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- So, this chapter is dedicated to Lovingcali15 and million. I own nothing.

There had been an accident on the way home from church. Raoul had decided that he would drive himself and his wife to the place of worship that Sunday morning. Everything had gone well on the ride there. Everything was fine while they were there. It was the ride home that the Fates decided to have their fun with the couple.

The horse had been spooked by something unseen on the streets. As Raoul came to try and calm the horse, it reared up on its hind legs, knocking the man over. He tried to scramble out of the way as the horse came down onto its front legs, still kicking all the way down. The Viscount was unable to escape the horse's hooves as they came down upon him with no mercy. It truly wasn't the horse's fault that it had effectively killed the man. It was simply reacting out of nature.

As Christine went flying to her husband's side, she screamed in sorrow and agony at the sight she was met with. The horse had broken his ribs. The bones were sticking through the flesh in some places and blood was dripping from the open wounds as well as his mouth. He was already dead, but Christine begged him to come back to her. What was she going to do without him? They had a son, a three year old son who was still in the carriage. How would she tell the little boy that the horse had killed his daddy? She wouldn't know the answer to this. Her screams had only managed to scare the horse again. It kicked up again, only to land on her back.

The prima donna screamed in agony as she felt something inside of her crack. Somehow she was able to feel blood pooling under her flesh. She wouldn't have much time left before her body's precious life source would be drained away. She now had to save her son, and there was only one way to do it. The carriage was stopped just outside the Opera House. There was one man who she could trust to raise her son once she was gone. She could only hope that he would be willing to help.

Erik didn't really enjoy Sundays. He had always hoped that at some point in his pitiful existence he could take a beautiful woman on a Sunday stroll through the park. It seemed that he would never get the chance to do that. But, he could not allow himself to think on those things. He was forcing himself to move on from the past and try to live a new life. He had planned on composing some new music today, despite the block he had been having. Ever since Christine had returned to his life, trying to compose so much as anything had been a challenge. As he went to sit down and try to find some sort of inspiration, the alarm signaled. Someone was crossing the lake. He had no idea who it could be. He had told the Persian to stay away; then again, the man rarely listened to whatever Erik said. It was an irritating quality the man possessed. But, who else could it be? Certainly not Christine, he figured. She was the only other one who could get in to his lair.

When he heard that very woman's voice crying out to him, seeming to be in both pain and desperation, Erik abandoned his organ. He could compose later. Though he had promised himself that he would no longer care for Christine, he could not take the pain that he could hear in her voice as she continued to cry out to him. She was rowing her way across the lake and seemed to be having a hard time with it. Upon arriving at the shore, she tumbled out carrying a small boy. He fell from her arms, landing at his feet. The boy began crying over his scraped elbow.

Erik knelt over the little boy who looked to be the spitting image of Raoul. He lightly touched his fingers to the boys hurt elbow, trying to hush the boy with calming words that the small wound would quickly heal once cleaned up. The little boy only nodded with tears still filling his large, brown eyes. He may be a big boy now, but he knew that something was wrong with mommy, so that was why he was crying. He explained as much to the masked man. Mommy had said the man with the mask was a nice man who was a kind spirit.

Erik slowly approached Christine, fearful of what he was going to find. He could see blood staining her back and could hear her crying. He was at her side in a matter of seconds, pulling her quickly growing cold body into his own arms. She was becoming so cold. Her heat was leaving her in the form of the blood that was leaving her back.

Her eyes found his mismatched ones and she smiled, a hand coming up to wipe away the tear that was slowly making its way down his exposed cheek. If she had to die in his arms, she would be content with it, for she did love him. It had taken coming to Death's doorstep for her to realize this. Why had she chosen Raoul and not this man who was telling her everything would be okay, who had brought her into his home and into her former room? She took his hand to pull him back to her as he made to leave the room, intending to find something to clean up her wounds.

Christine only shook her head. "It's too late now, Angel." The look of pain that crossed his eyes nearly broke her heart. She was hurting him again. Why could she only bring this Angel pain and nothing more? It made her wish she had never entered his life. With an effort she made him to sit beside her on the bed, as she forced herself into a sitting position. The prima donna rested her head against his shoulder, and asked in a weak voice, "Will you sing with me, one last time?"

Why would she ask for this? Shouldn't she be asking for him to save her and stop the bleeding? Upon looking at the blood she had lost, though, he came to realize that trying to save her would be a futile effort. That didn't make it any easier on him though. He was a fool to think that he could so easily close the door on his past. He did still love her, and now he would have to let her go to the arms of Death, not just some boy. Fate truly was a cruel mistress. Still, he would give her the request she asked for. He would sing for her with all of his worth.

He forced a smile onto his face, and slowly began, "Smile though your heart is aching. Smile even though it's breaking. When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by. If you smile through your fear and sorrow, smile and maybe tomorrow you'll see the sun come shining through for you."

"Light up your face with gladness. Hide every trace of sadness. Although a tear may be ever so near, that's the time you must keep on trying. Smile, what's the use of crying? You'll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile." Christine continued, her voice managing to sound perfect even through the pain.

"Light up your face with gladness," he went on.

"And hide every little trace of sadness," she answered, lightly resting her hand on his face. She was becoming all the more cold, "although a tear may be ever so near."

He slowly removed the masque for her. If she was to die, she may as well remember him for who he truly was, not just the Opera Ghost. She should see him as Erik before she passed. "That's the time you must keep on trying. Smile, what's the use of crying?"

"You'll find that life is still worthwhile," she answered, her voice losing some of its power.

They finished together, "If you just smile."

Christine managed to ask Erik to care for her young son before she finally left the world, but not before giving him a slight kiss to his lips. She died in his arms. Now, there was a chance for him to fully close the doors on his past. He could just put the little boy in an orphanage, move from the Opera House, and never look back. He couldn't do that, though. He wouldn't do that.

The little boy entered the room, looking the masked man-who wasn't wearing his mask-and then to his mother lying lifeless on the bed. He sobbed before throwing himself into the arms of the Phantom of the Opera. The man's deformed face did not bother. He looked with his heart and not with his eyes when looking upon people. This man who was now trying to calm him held sadness in his eyes from a life of toil and tears but also an immense amount of kindness. As this man was to become his guardian, the little boy openly accepted him. When asked his name, the boy replied, "Erik. Mother says she named me after someone she loved even more than daddy."

A/N- Well, that's it. To find the song I used, go on YouTube and look up Tony Bennett's duet with Barbra Streisand called "Smile." Again, I own nothing.


End file.
